A Dark Gift: Ysara's Story
by Yinwolf
Summary: Sithis, why did he have to chose her? Her of all the people in Tamriel he had to pick her... and yet the idea, the thirst for blood. It kept driving her ever so close to her dark father.
1. Revival

A/N: So I have recently fallen hard for the elder scrolls series, and I have some friends to back me up for motivation for this so This might get done! This is one story along with three other's, the final product will be one giant story from each OC's different POV... err, I'm not going to give away too much so just keep in touch and keep reading and maybe review please?

* * *

The cold burned through her thin cloths into her skin as she laid on the hard icy snow mix that covered the forest ground. Her mind flickered to different things as the hot traces of hypothermia started to settle it's way into her flesh. She had crossed the border of Skyrim into Cyrodiil for what reason again? Right, that monster had come, that stupid terrible monster with fangs glistening with blood in the moonlight and a growl so fierce it sent hardset warriors fleeing.

She took a raspy breath and stopped halfway from the pain. How could she have hoped to survive the run? Even having gotten away without more than a few scratches that vampire had given her a run a good chase. Yet now she wondered if she should have taken the swift, painful death of being sucked dry. After the thought crossed her mind though a few hard tears rolled down her burning cheeks and sending sparks across her skin. She could barely think about letting him take her life like that. After all, they had been friends once upon a time, hadn't they?

Slowly she felt her life-force wavering away and she let it pass. She was far too tired, far too weak to do anything about it. The last thing she saw before spiraling into blackness was the curls of her blonde hair swirled out on the snow infront of her, and her last thought was a wonder as to why things had turned for the worst.

* * *

"Get up."

_"_**_Get up."  
_**  
She heard the demand yet in her mind it was but a fine mist of words. Her pulse pounded it's way through her sore beaten body and her thoughts scrambled to collect themselves. _Where am I?_ the thought managed to cram into her, giving her conscience something to grip and focus on. After pondering reality slapped her._Why aren't I dead?!  
_  
There was a low growl that caught her attention before a sharp crack sliced through the air. Pin needles of pain shot up and down her right side as her right shoulder-blade was struck. If she hadn't been so worn down it was certain she would have screamed from the sudden agony.

The words came to her again, deep, dark and menacing. "I said, get up!"

The feeling of worry washed over her at the thought of being hit again. She couldn't say that she was completely terrified of the figure, oh no, the voice actually intrigued her. It perked her interest more than any feel of caution and thus she used the fueled energy that spiraled form her hit to push her face out of the snow and push herself up onto her knees.

A hard lump formed in her throat at her sight met with the form that she was only slightly surprised to see. The void stretched out before her, a large cascading black hole with the only light inside being from the sparks of immense power that rippled through it. it stood at least a hundred feet across and the hight was just highest then the forest trees. As it swirled it disturbed nothing of the earth.

"Good..." the voice said, a soft light purr in the tone this time. "You can endure many things, a perfect quality I like in my daughter's."

She froze while staring up at The Void. "A...a daugh...ter...?" she barely managed to choke out and there was a low laugh.

"Yes, I suppose you know where I'm leading with this?" the voice asked. The genuine tone it held as it asked now piqued her curiosity further. She sat back on her heels and thought a moment... A daughter, daughter. The breton's mind flicked and suddenly flooded information as she suddenly remembered before the attack, before her mind and body were battered.

Half of her felt the sudden need to back away, yet the other wanted to go up and throw herself into the void so she could look around for that damned daedric and rip his throat out.

She bit down on her lip hard, thinking well before speaking. "So... Sithis..." she murmured. When The Void didn't object that the name was wrong she continued with a surprisingly straight voice "You were the one... you tore down my life just so... I could come and be one... of your damned children?"

There was a deadly silence and she felt a different kind of cold sink over her. It pushed away the heat of her illness and sent chills darting up and down her spine as she waited the reply. A few mere heartbeats later the daedric grunted "That's a thought, yet not the one I went for. I merely used the inevitable event to lure you into something that would have occurred in the far future."

She tilted her head slightly "So even if you hadn't sent out that trigger, it would have happened anyway after a time."

"Precisely." He stated.

A few minutes of silence covered the air as her thoughts clicked once more. She finally settled on one disturbing fact, if he had triggered the vampires bloodlust this way, what was the original way? Was it any more gruesome or would it have given them all more times?

The girl opened her mouth to ask yet her heart lept when she found The Void had nearly disappeared. It's form rapidly became more transparent and only then did she feel a true spark of fear at being left alone with barely any instruction. She heard the voice once more "My motives will be revealed by the end. Over the next few years you will grow, and when the time is right you will be approached by a speaker who will lead you into a new... fascinating service under me."

The void faded completely once the words were spoke and the world of pain seemed to crash back down while her energy diminished once more. She gritted her teeth and rocked back on her heels, flopping down in the snow once more.

_I won't be much use to him if I die here. _She thought bitterly, gritting her teeth. Her gaze scanned the light gray clouded sky while her thoughts began to wander. A few memories filled her mind and she smiled at them as they flickered through and passed. The times they laughed, when they accidentally threw the blacksmith in the river, when they would call each other odd names... what was it they used to call her again...?

Her heart stopped and her eyes opened wide. Her name, sweet gods what was her name? How could she forget her own name?

She bit her lip hard and closed her eyes, searching her memories desperately. Ys... she could remember that much, it started with Ys. now if she could just find the other half she might be satisfied with herself before death swallowed her.

"Hello?!" a new voice shocked her into painfully turning her head in it's direction. She saw someone... an argonian by the looks of it, though she couldn't truly tell under the thick covers of clothing.

The figure came closer and bent down over her. "Breton? Are you alright?"

She growled, the action causing her to wince slightly. She hated being called by her race, it didn't show what she was at all, yet she guessed the argonian had nothing better to call her. "...I... help...?" she managed to gasp and he nodded.

"Of course small one, your lucky I found you and not the wolves." he chuckled before picking her up bridal style. She immediately curled to her best extent into his strong embrace, into the warmth her every fiber craved.

It was unknown as to what happened next as she slipped into darkness once more. When she awoke there were thick warm furs wrapped around her and she could distantly hear the crackle of a warm fire. Her mind wrapped her in a blanket of confusion until she shifted and found another presence pressed up against her back.

She jumped up into a sitting position and turned, facing the stranger. He was indeed an argonian as she had thought. An amused smile crossed his features as he watched her. "Sorry I pressed so close, small tent." he said and she nodded, that fact was pretty obvious as while she sat there her head nearly rubbed against the top.

"Thank you for helping me." She said softly. It shown in her eyes how happy she was to normally talk again and the argonian chuckled.

"Of course." he waved his hand slightly "What kind of Argonian would I be if I didn't help a cute lost lady?" his smiled widened as she blushed slightly. "Teasing my girl, teasing." he laughed before narrowing his eyes slightly.

"My name is Scar-tail, yours?" he asked and she froze. Why did this stupid affair have to arise so soon? She picked gently and the skin of the fur that surrounded her and glanced down.

She swallowed hard before answering "I can't remember, all I remember is it started with Ys." she sighed and Scar-tail pursed his lips, if thats what you would call it. To her it looked like a large 'O' shape as he pressed his scaly lips together.

After a few minutes of silence and some soft 'hmms' from him he snapped his fingers. "Ah! Well we'll just have to guess off the thirteen suffixes then hmm?" he asked, sitting up as well.

She nodded before blushing furiously as the furs fell away from his torso to reveil he was shirtless. "Doesn't that get cold?" she asked before really thinking.

He shook his head without any notice of her further blushing. "Here in the swamp it's too muggy to be anything but warm."

Her heart sped up. Had Scar-tail taken her all the way back to the Black Marsh? He must have seen her startled expression as he waved his hands frantically. "No no, we're at a swamp at the south end of Cyrodill." She relaxed and he continued. "Now does Ysola sound familiar?"

"Nope."

"Ysyssa?"

"That name sounds like a crime."

"Ysanna?

"Nah..." something did click about that last name though. "I do think it had an a in it."

He looked bright. "Ysara?" he questioned the breton felt her heart warm at the use of her name.

Ysara held back the urge to leap onto Scar-tail and hug him. "Yes! yes, oh now could I forget?" she shook her head and gently pinched the bridge of her nose in thought. How stupid she was to remember everything but her own bloody name. "Ysara Whiteflash."

Scar-tail nodded slowly "The cold has it's ways." he murmured before scooting backwards out of the furs and out into the swamp. "I'd love to hear your story now, but I assume after four days you're hungry."

The girl opened her mouth to speak but her stomach cut her off by growling loud enough for both of them to hear. The argonian chuckled "Mmhm" he voiced before turning away out to the fire.

Ysara laid back down on her stomach. She studied the argonian curiously, all up and down his back were dark orange crimson scales, when he turned the scales were brighter and there were a few greenish patches though the larges green patches were around his pale red eyes.

Slowly she looked away from the kind argonian. She wondered if she could really trust him, he was a stranger to her yet he did seem friendly and he did save her life. Was it really that bad to trust someone so easily?

Scar-tail came back to the tent mere minutes later, holding two roughly carved bowls. The breton's mouth started to water at the smell as he drew near and sat down outside the tent.

She eagerly dove into the fish stew, holding back a wince at feeling something running down her throat for the first time in the four days she had passed out. It felt good, get every swallow sent a shiver of pain through her. It would probably take a while for her to get used to the feeling again, but she didn't mind all that much, at least she was alive.

The Argonian watched the young breton with an amused expression as she dove into the food. Once most of it had been devoured and Ysara couldn't find the endurance to eat anymore he spoke "So, why were you out in the forests of Skyrim anyway?"

The question startled Ysara slightly, and her heart felt retched at the though of why she was laying there in that dark forest. _I couldn't say wether it be that damned Vampire or Sithis..._ She thought, playing with the edge of her bowl. She let out a slow breath before speaking her words with care.

"Honestly I'm not sure myself..." They didn't sound as careful as she had hoped but it was all she could manage at the time.

Scar-tail flicked his tail ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes. This caused her heart to speed up in fear, had she said something unreasonable?

He shook his heard ever so slightly. "I suppose that can't be helped if you don't trust me enough to say yet."

She smiled gently, nervously. Something didn't seem right about this amphibian all of the sudden. "I would probably trust you more if you trusted to tell me about yourself first." she mused, genuinely curious about the argonian. Though, she did always have a want to know more about people who came into her life for whatever way, and she never left without a good answer.

His gaze bared into hers yet she held it firm. She was starting to get some of her confidence back, of how she missed the feeling of her own security. Finally he sighed. "It's embarrassing to say, though I can see in your eyes I have little choice." he mumbled and she smiled widely, changing her position so she was laying on her stomach with her head propped on her hands.

"I won't go into detail," he started with a gaze that said he was serious, and she nodded understandingly. "I grew up as a Shadowscale."

"Shadowscale?" She questioned softly and he grimaced.

"In Argonia, those born under the shadow are taken and trained as Assassin's by the Dark Brotherhood." He explained.

A stiff shiver ran up her spine at the mention of the Dark Brotherhood. She really was to end up in their cruel claws if she was meeting up with their members already. She gritted her teeth and pushed the thoughts away, trying to listen to the rest of his story.

His red gaze darkened as he continued, unknowing of her discomfort. "I grew and trained with some... old friends. Though we went separate ways once we came to the end of our training." He took a deep breath "They stayed to work mostly with the Dark Brotherhood while I Stayed with Argonia, what a huge mistake I had made."

The air grew quite quiet and Ysara shifted uncomfortably. Something inside her shouted that she should stop his displeasure, tell him to end the story and that she could hear it a different day. Yet her curious demeanor whispered alluringly to encourage him to continue, if he wanted to join her trust, he should do as she asked.

She trusted the whisper.

"Go on, 'S not like I have anyone to sell you out to." she probed, wishing she had chosen better words.

Scar-tail studied her once more before he nodded. "Ah yes... They gave out harsh and unusual deeds, though I didn't oppose. I loved the thrill of hunting down the useless and unwanted with the twist of a challenge." he smiled slightly, but it quickly faded. "It proved too much for me at a time though."

"I failed in a battle against a very powerful mage..." he chuckled and lifted his left arm and Ysara stared horrifically at the large hunk of flesh that was missing from the reptiles side. Around the wound the flesh was charred black, but the center pulsed pink and red with blood. The layers of flesh that had healed over the wound obviously hadn't healed thickly, otherwise the pulse wouldn't had been so vibrant.

Ysara could feel his studying look and she looked back to lock gazes. "It looks like my pulse, but... pulse doesn't even show with so little skin." he explained and it took the breton a moment to fully understand what he meant.

"That's your heart." she said it simply, yet it came out soft.

"Yes, the mage did quite a number. I would not have lived weren't it for one of those old friend I told you about..." he shifted so he was leaning back on his hands, his scaly sandaled covered feet stretched out and came to touch the edge of the tent. "Only, I was so ashamed of my defeat I didn't stay to face him."

The young breton cocked her head curiously. "You ran?" she questioned carefully.

"It was the only thing I could think to do, heh. Argonia and my old friends were not happy with my choices. I was given a chance to return, but I declined even if it meant being put on their list. I couldn't bare to stand if I failed them again." He trailed off once more, yet this was a more peaceful silence then an awkward one. The worst of the brink had passed.

Ysara pulled away from the furs and pushed the bowl to the side. She let the argonians story sink in as she pulled herself out of the tent to stretch properly. So, he was an ex assassin. _I wonder if his skills still transfer after..._ her thoughts stopped.

After a brief questioning with herself she looked down at him. "How long have you been running?"

A large beam of sun cut through the clouds and shimmered over them both. While she blinked in surprise, Scar-tail smiled and closed his eyes, basking in the warmth the sun had so generously granted them. His voice rolled with a new lightness "Let's see, I'm thirty-two now... So almost exactly two years." He mused.

Ysara nodded slightly. He looked young enough, but with a story such as that it wasn't hard to believe he was that age. She still pondered wether she could trust him, the recent betrayal that laid in her heart pushed away any thoughts of it. Still he deserved to know a little, after he had trusted her.

She sat down on the slope of the hill to the water. She glanced around, taking in the setting of the boggy swamp. The sun's yellow light set the yellow/green grass off beautifully and she smiled, understanding why argonians favored the swamps. It may have been dank and filled with muck half the time, yet that didn't take away from the beauty it did have.

Slowly she drew a circle in the small patch of sandy earth next to her. After hesitating a moment more she glanced toward Scar-tail again. "I can see why my friend wanted to visit the swamps so much." she started.

"Oh?" he questioned, opening his eyes and turning to her.

She nodded slowly, letting herself unwind slowly as she started to tell her newfound companion about her life in skyrim, and how it so abruptly came crashing down around her.

* * *

A/N: Okay, Sorry sorry sorry! I really didn't want to add any more to Ysara's past in this chapter then I had to, as it all come's out at a later time. R&R please, even the smallest comments help.

EDIT: I went though and delt with some grammer, I hope everything is inplace.


	2. Capture

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and follows! If anything is misspelled please feel free to tell me, I want to keep my story clean and understandable. On a last quick note Ysara isn't from any of the games, she is my own creation. If there's a similar name then sorry, I didn't know. Also sorry for the wait, after starting a story I easily loose muse ;;

* * *

Pain flooded her, it erupted in flames along her skin and burned her very soul. It hurt so much, but she couldn't help but feel addicted to that feeling, the feeling of pain finally warming her and making her feel something. Her vision had been clouded in dark swirling gray smoke until now. It faded to a bluish black, the little white puffs of smoke that were left turned into stars.

A large being was sensed next to her ear and she shuddered as its deep, scaly, demotic voice hissed coldly "The process... Has started."

The cold breath of the voice washed over her, plunging her from the warm embrace into ice water. She opened her mouth half in shock, half to scream in protect, but her airways where filled immediately with a black sludge. Panicked, she struggled but found herself pinned down by her wrists by forces unknown.

Slowly everything elapsed into black and the last she could hear was a deep chuckle and her own softly growing breath.

* * *

Ysara awoke with a gasp, her arms flying up around her neck in instinct. Her eyes were bulging as she took in the setting of the cave. After a few moments to recognize where she was the breton lowered her arms and sighed.

Did she even want to know what that dream was? Of course she did, but a strong tug of experience told her it was best left alone.

Grinding her teeth she pulled herself from the bedroll and kneeled there. A quick glance around told her that Scar-Tail had gone out out, probably to hunt since their supply's were low. She was slightly disappointed she could feel the rush of hunting down prey, yet this would give her time to pack all the equipment that was scattered around the cave. It had to be ready for when they left for Leyawiin later that evening.

She smiled in remembrance. In the four years they had been partners they traveled back to Bogwater camp at least once every passing year. It was a good reminder for both of them as they had gained such an odd bond, one that couldn't be easily broken. He had taught her most of what she knew now about bows, poisons, and their uses. Oh what a thought it seemed now that she thought he killed everyone he took down with a bow, when the reality was they were merely paralyzed or weakened.

With a chuckle at the memory she stood, changing from her sleep-ware to some simple clothes before clasping on her iron armor. With practiced motions she swung her bow and arrows up and around her shoulder, over her head where it lay comfortably against her shoulder. She left her elven dagger near her bedroll and strolled down the small hill of the cave to the fire pit.

There were miscellaneous herbs and spices laying around the stones. She picked out what was left of the good plants and fruit, leaving the half eaten or bruised stuff to rot. She packed them and the last of the meat (three footlong strips) in a small sack. Tossing the food up near her bedroll she turned and began packing their utensils.

By the time everything had been tied up and bundled into two packs bright light was seeping through the cracks in the cave top.

The door to the cave creaked and Ysara's hand instantly flew to her dagger which was now wrapped at her side. It was probably just her argonian parter, but a past experience always told her to be ready incase of intrusion.

All her muscles relaxed as she saw Scar-Tail round the corner into the small cavern. The hanging of his head and the limp hold on his bow told her all she needed to know.

"Its a pity but we can do with what we have." she said, trying to comfort him if even a bit.

His head snapped up and she saw raw fury in his eyes. "I missed that damn boar by centimeters I tell you! Bah, I am no true hunter." he hissed.

Ysara frowned, her annoyance over the topic getting the better of her judgement. "If you're going to bum about it I'll start going out and you can stay back and pack." she said slightly smug. Soon as she had finished her sentence she tossed him one of the packs.

Scar-Tail looked at her with slight shock, but a grin played at the corner of his scaled lips. "If you come back with something it's a deal." he said, slipping on the pack.

"Psh, I could show you up now if we didn't want to get to Bogwater by dark." she sneered jokingly. There had already been a good mood set for the day, but it brightened at the thought of challenges.

"Let's get going then!" he chuckled.

They departed from the small cave and made their way down south by the Morrowind border. They would have headed directly south had it not been for their knowing of the Dark Brotherhood in Cheydinhal.

After her dream earlier that morning, the very mention of the Dark Brotherhood sent a large eerie shock down her spine. It caused her to wonder what 'process' had started... It caused her to think about what had happened four years ago.

Ysara was so wrapped up in her mind she nearly ran into Scar-Tail as he stopped abruptly. With a huff she walked around to his side to see what had caught his attention, though nothing caught her sight on the barren plain they were traveling through.

She turned, giving the argonian a quizzical look that was answered by a quick head shake. "Just my imagination... Let's continue."

"Are you sure? We could rest a bit." she said, a bit of soft worry curbing her voice.

"No!" the forcefulness of his voice made it crack slightly and he winced. "Ah, please no. We need to get to camp."

Ysara was still clouded with doubt, though she didn't object. If he wants to waste away his health he's free to. She bit her lip at the odd thought. It was wrong of her to think that way, and yet her real feeling combated with her false ones of the mind. Why should she even care?

The rest of the walk was an oddly tense one. Scar-Tail was very tense, looking as if everything were a threat, it confused Ysara greatly. They opted only a few words every hour, and the dampness of the mood seemed to get thicker with every shorter strand of words.

As the sun was settling the air and ground became thicker with moister, a sign that their new home was close.

Ysara sighed in relief at the familiar landscape. They both needed rest, that was all. Tomorrow was a new day and they could start enjoying the 'new' setting. As she started walking further there was an emptiness from next to her side.

She turned to find Scar-Tail looking around in curiosity, though when he turned to her it was really a look of wariness.

It wasn't something she could take anymore. She had to know what was up, and to prove her intentions she took a few angry steps toward him. "Listen Scar-"

"Hush Ysara." he hissed, looking around swiftly once more. "I need you to hide by the camp."

"But-"

He silenced her with a deadly stare, and despite being 21 she felt like a child. Out of her pure shock she started backing away towards the camp.

"Take your pack off," he spoke softer "use it to make a scene that looks like you escaped to the water."

Escape...?

She nodded, trusting him indefinitely. Her footsteps were quick as she retreated over the short rise to the camp. Swiftly she did as he asked. Throwing her pack down by the water, she dug out foot holes and repositioned everything just right to make look believable.

Silently she backed up and hid under the shadow of the large boulder that was there. The space was just large enough for her small petite body, it caused her but a slight discomfort as she pressed against the mildly damp stone.

Her blue gaze peered out around the rounded edge of the stone. At first there was nothing but the sight of the slimy green yellow grass, but that was save for what she heard. The loud clash of metal rung in her ears and her eyes widened as the sound turned to loud zaps as well.

_Like hell I'm going to hide! _The breton thought angrily, her hand on the bound handle of her bow. From this distance she could probably pick off the attacker. All her instincts to fight clicker into order, but something tugged her back. An urge, something that asked her if it was worth it. What if there were others there, hiding, waiting for her to give way?

The clanking got louder as a large mass flew over the crest of the hill and tumbled downward. As it stopped moving, Ysara could tell it was another red skinned argonian wielding an Iron katana. She snickered slightly. As it a flimsy weapon like that could get through Scar-Tail's armor. This battle was in the bag

Her hand came way from her bow and she watched as Scar-tail came over the rise. He was panting, his right arm limp, yet a look of triumph was plastered across his features. The other argonian rolled back into a crouch now, and Ysara could only guess his eyes were blazing in fury. _It's useless. _She thought.

The stranger lunged forward and up, but Scar-tail easily blocked the attack. The swords slid apart from each other and Scar-tail swiftly raised the sword to come down with a swift strike.

There was a startled cry, and Ysara felt everything stop. The strange argonian had taken the blow, but in turn he had yanked Scar-tail closer and released a powerful shock spell. He had reached between the larger open folds of the armor, his arm disappeared nearly halfway before reemerging soaked in blood, and clutching Scar-tail's heart.

The old argonian assassin's eyes rolled slightly and his expression went blank as he slumped to the ground. His body rolled down the slope a few times, his sword casted to the side and his limbs tumbling in random ways.

Ysara couldn't comprehend what was happening. He was dead, her best friend was dead, he was like all of them who had died in the raid all those years ago. But he couldn't be dead, they were supposed to be at Bogwater now, enjoying themselves and the fact they found each other. Right? Why would he break a promise such as that?

Then it hit, of course he would never break that promise, not to her at least. It was that bastard argonians fault, the one who held the life pump of her dear friend within his fist.

She turned, glaring to the stranger who seemed quite satisfied with himself. He must've not seen her with Scar-tail because after a quick glance around he wrapped the heart in a cloth sack before turning and slipping out of the swamp. The moment he was gone Ysara fled her hiding spot and half-ran half-crawled over over to Scar-Tail's limp body.

Her hands came to rest over the blood that was seeping through the armor before she untied the straps and buckles to stare at the wound. It smelled horribly burned, The little flesh there had been utterly ripped and torn, black scorch marks flared against the red scales from the spell. A dark pit lay within everything, a cracked rib-bone jutted out slightly and blood bubbled from the wound out and back into the hole.

Ysara gasped slightly, as if she were going to start weeping, but nothing came. With each shuddering gasp she took her rage grew. When she finally stood again, covered in the argonians blood, his body nearly flew to its new position a few feet away. She stared at it, wanting to feel something of remorse, but there way only the overpowering sense to get revenge.

With an angered growl she whipped around. Her blonde hair came loose from it's hold and flushed around her face, irritating her and making her more infuriated. She swiftly made her way down to the shore to pick up her pack. When it was firmly strapped down she started off in the direction the stranger had gone.

It didn't matter how long it was going to take. She was going to get what she had wanted for so long. A reason to kill.

* * *

Her position was stiff as she leaned on her elbows, her forehead resting against her fists. She had calmed down by the time she had found that bastard, but it didn't quell what she wanted.

_What if he has a family?_

The sudden thought startled her. But her disposition came back quickly.

_Family be damned_

_Oh really? You wouldn't care about your family?_

_My original family abandoned me, my second family and my best friend have been slaughtered, there is nothing left for me to care about when it comes to being part of a drama._

_I see._

There was a movement out of the corner of her eye and Ysara watched on edge as the argonian moved drunkenly. He clomped over and up to the stairs. Soon as he rounded the corner she stood slowly and followed making sure to keep close as possible without suspicion. After she followed to the correct door she waited without disruption for a few minutes before attempting to open the door. Surprise flooded her as the door opened with ease.

Slowly she passed into the room, making sure to close the door behind her. It clicked silently and she proceeded forward. All her senses were at once on edge as she crept forward. The eerie silence pooled over her as she couldn't pinpoint where the damned lizard had went. That was, until a shuffling at her right caused her to tense and turn.

A blind, of course he'd be hiding behind such a thing. But then again why would he have reason to hide when he knew nothing of her presence? The thoughts confused her as she backed up few quick paces into a shadow. The shuffling continued, and the lizard's shadow was cast across the room as he moved form behind the blind. The sight that stood there caused her to gag.

He stood stark naked before her, his pose slightly wobbled from the alcohol he had consumed. One arm leaned against the blind as he looked around in confusion. Then a smile came over his features. "Ah, are we playing hide and seek you little fox?" he slurred glancing around the room.

Ysara's lip curled as she realized what exactly was going on. He was waiting for a prostitute to come up, as why the door was unlocked and he was naked. She shook her head a bit as he looked into one of the large chests. _Pathetic bastard, as if he'd have a family._

Luckily in his state he didn't think to go straight across the room to her point. Instead he turned to the bed to glance under, and she saw her chance. Quickly she slipped her two readily poisoned blades into each hand and made her way forward with swift steps. As he stood she threw her right hand out around his neck, making an agile cut across the main bloodline. The blade in her left hand came into contact with his kidney.

There was a gasp and sputtering noise, but the poison worked its magic. Normally any other poison would have led to the Argonians natural immunity set in, but this poison was of a different breed. It stopped the natural healing process of wounds and caused them to bleed out heavily, as the lizard was doing now. She let him spill forward, bleeding out onto the bed.

Her breathing had gotten heavy. The kill had left such a rush within her, it was addicting. The scent of the copper blood that stained her blades, the clouded sightless gaze of the fool argonian, the adrenaline. It was just too perfect a feeling. Something held it slightly at bay though, it felt as if her actions had been noted, seen by something unseen.

**_"What the hell dare you doing?!"_**

The scream cut her good mood short. She hadn't even though the women that was to be set up would come in at that moment. With a smile smile she leapt atop the bed and through the window, shattering it in the process while the women behind her screamed for the guards.

All feelings of accomplishment faded and were replaced by fear as she slid off the side roofing and down to the street below. The natural thing to do was run, and so she did. Her boots often slipped on the cobble in her rush, and she could hear the pounding of iron boots fast approaching from behind. She rounded the corner of the towns chapel, headed for the gate to Blackwood, only to come to a halt as a firm pain forced its way into her shoulder.

A rack of pain shot through her and she gasped, clutching at the arrow with her other arm. _Damn. _The guards surrounded her in an instant. A blonde Imperial stepped forward from the group, her glare looking as if it could kill a horse, though Ysara's held the same expression as she glared back.

"Think you could get away criminal scum?" the Imperial growled. "You're coming with us."

"Over my dead body." The young breton spat back.

The guard narrowed her eyes. "That can be arranged."

Ysara reluctantly stood straight and allowed herself to be roughly chained. As she was pushed along she silently thanked whatever gods there were that she had hid all the rest of her supplies outside the city.

Once or twice her was stabbed or prodded to walk faster towards the castle. But she didn't much care at the moment. All that haunted her was the thought of how long she would be in jail, if they would even let her skip to jail. Execution was always a pained subject for her. Murder was one thing, but being willingly killed infront of people was simply inhumane in her eyes.

They entered the first sector of the dungeons, where she expected to had the arrow removed from her shoulder. Yet as soon as her binds were undone a force smacked into the back of her skull, causing everything to go black.

* * *

A/N: That was a confusing chapter, I know, I sowwey. As I said, I didn't have any muse for this but it had to get done, so it was pretty forced. I hope you enjoyed none the less and I promise to have things more clearly stated in the next chapter.


	3. Welcome-Part 1

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for being patient. School and overall laziness got to me. Plus I'm collabing with a friend to help her make a Pokémon fic so that eats up time too. As well as my new job as a concept artist and blah blah blah I doubt you want to hear this. Now a note about the story, there are a few time skips in the beginning but I think I corrected that later on, so don't kill me over it please x3

Alright, that's all. Enjoy the next installment!

* * *

There was a loud moan as the Breton woke from her forced sleep. Her head immediately started to throb, sending shocks of pain down into her sore body. After a moment she opened her eyes to look around the dimly lit cell.

"Hey, hey Karn she's awake!" a feminine voice spoke.

Ysara forced herself to sit as a loud grunting noise sounded not far off. "Karn does not care for the newcomer." a masculine voice, obviously accented with Khajit.

Ysara noted that the voice of Karn came from the cell next to her. While the first voice returned from the Dark Elf dressed in sack cloth that was in the cell across from her.

"Well I care." she said softly, catching the Bretons eye. "What's your name Breton?" she asked.

Ysara blinked, still stunned with waking up on the floor. After a few minutes of silent patience and working her muscles around she decided to answer.

"Ysara Whiteflash." she said, her voice cracking slightly from the lack of saliva generating in her mouth.

The dark elf smiled. "Whiteflash seems a bit odd a last name. I'm Kirari Ducrane." she stated, "There should be a bucket of water to your right in the corner."

The Breton turned, lunging for the bucket as she saw it. It was stale tasting but it quenched her thirst none the less. Once she had drunk a significant amount she sat back with a sigh, glancing back to Kirari with half closed eyes. The elf looked friendly enough, her tone well and meaning, she might as well give the other women the benefit of the doubt.

"It's a combination." She stated towards the comment about her name. Forcing any memories down she leaned back against the left wall before continuing "I was brought into an orphanage when I was but an infant. The only thing that was left with me besides the basket was a scrap of parchment that said Ysara."

"When I was twelve my two best friends thought it good for me to have a last name, but we could think of anything so we took their last names, White and Phralsh, and combined them, obviously reorganizing Phralsh to flash." She finished, taking a gentler sip from the bucket.

"Interesting…" Kirari spoke softly again, leaning down against her own wall so they were at the same height. "Excuse my nosiness but I'm curious. Could I ask you a few more things?"

There was an air that radiated from the dark elf that the Breton couldn't describe, it was too friendly for comfort and yet sincere and innocent. She bit her lip, debating it a moment before stating "If I can ask you a few first."

She smiled. "Ask away, friend."

* * *

Half an hour had past of passing back and forth information about each other. Ysara was surprised at how sociable she could be after all the years of hiding with Scar-tail. There were a few times they had gotten a bit loud and a guard had shouted at them, or Karn grumbled against their talking's as he tried to sleep, but that didn't stop them.

Ysara found out the Kirari was in business with Karn, as how they knew each other so well. They acted as mere beggars but in turn they were one of the major points for the underground market. She didn't go much into her past, and the Breton didn't push it, especially when Kirari showed her the large marks indented to her shoulders.

When their chatting started to draw to a close Kirari stated something the young Breton didn't quite expect.

"So you're a rouge thief then." She said the words almost plainly.

"What…?" Ysara questioned, giving the elf a questioning look.

She shrugged in turn. "By the way you spoke, your little history, and the talk between the guards I assumed."

The Breton was quiet for a few moments. _I'd rather not risk getting word around that I'm a murderer._ She thought. _This is my best bet._

"Ah, I suppose. I don't understand your query though about me being rouge." She said, rubbing her arm in fake embarrassment.

"Well, you should know all thieves that aren't part of the thieves' guild are rouges. " She explained with a questioning tone.

"I thought Cyrodiil didn't have a thief's guild?" Ysara said with an equally questioning tone.

Kirari turned silent for a few moments, and to be honest it scared the hell out of the Breton. But the friendly demeanor quickly returned and the Dark elf grinned, though it didn't do anything to ease her nerves.

"You have some things to learn Ysara. I can't tell all but… be looking for me later in time alright?" she said happily.

"Right…" Ysara sighed. Why did she have to get tangled up with this? All she wanted to do was go back to roaming the world with a companion. For a reason she didn't feel like she needed Scar-tail anymore. After taking revenge on the perverted Argonian she didn't feel a source of loss anymore, there was a stronger feeling that seemed to burn into her chest, a feeling of belonging, a feeling of being with others, a home.

"I'm going to leave you to your thoughts." Kirari broke into her change in pondering. The Breton simply nodded before enveloping herself with the wonder of this feeling.

* * *

"Ysara?" a dark voice broke the Breton from her hazed thoughts. It had been three weeks since she had been imprisoned. Kirari and Karn had left long ago, leaving her in an isolated silence. Since she was the only one the guards rarely bothered to check on her and soon it reduced to only the meal times when they looked to her to make sure she hadn't fashioned a shiv or lock pick from something.

The Breton rolled her head to look out from the covers of her bedroll. It obviously wasn't feeding time as she had just eaten the disgusting slop earlier. "What?" she hissed groggily.

"The rest of your time has been paid off. You're free to go." The guard said, picking out a key and slipping into the lock. Ysara could barely register the loud tumble of the gears over her shocked adrenaline.

_Who the hell would bail me out? _She thought, rising sorely to her feet. She passed through the cell a bit stunned by the change of light from the cell to the small hallway. She must have been adjusting herself to the light too long for the guard shoved her forward, nearly causing her to fall.

There was a low growl. "If you want to stay here there are no objections."

Mentally rolling her eyes she walked along the hallway and through the door to another room where she collected her armor and weapons and other equipment. As soon as she had them she was practically dragged through the castle and shoved out into the cold night air.

Weariness still lingered in her bones as she slumped down the path to the Leyawiin gates. Thoughts of who bailed her out still lingered in her mind as well as someplace she could finish resting. The chances of her getting a room for cheap in this city were slim now as most would have heard of her, so she had no choice but to leave the city and walk up toward Bravil.

Slowly she trekked toward the Blackwood gate, giving the guards there crude looks as she passed by. One of them turned, giving her a grin that told her everything. _I'll be back for you worm. _ She thought, passing through the small gap in the gate as it opened. Oh how she couldn't wait for the moment when she could slit his throat.

After the gates closed she found a slightly secluded spot and changed into her armor, leaving the sack cloth to rot. After that she slowly scouted around till finding her hiding spot for all her equipment. _Thank the nine. _She thought, rummaging around the pack. Everything seemed to be in place, all for the food that had rotted. A fool move on her part as now she was certain the pack would smell of decay for weeks.

She cleaned every last scrap out as well as a few useless pieces of cloth and potions to lighten her load. Once she was satisfied she strapped the sack across her back and set out in the direction of Bravil. Her fatigue seemed less as she kept on, her goal for a safe place to rest had awakened her a bit, as well as her hunger for a proper meal.

As the thought of hunting flitted through her mind she stumbled upon an odd sight, a slaughtered bear at the side of the path. When she drew warily closer to the corpse she saw that the cut was a large clean one across the front of its neck and a few arrows protruded from the bear's side as well. A large blood of blood circled around the head of the bear, the darkness of the night turning the crimson substance black.

Ysara's hand crossed back to her bow and she gripped it tightly, silently drawing it and a few arrows to the ready. There wasn't ask risk she'd be taking, she was already tired, it she was off her guard by even the slightest she would die at the hands of the enemy. Slowly she stepped closer to inspect the bears flesh. There were things to be wary of, yet she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity of a free meal.

Cutting a piece of the flesh away she inspected the runniness of the blood as a little spilled from the cut. The color of the flesh hadn't changed and it was still very warm, it must have only past extremely recently. Perhaps the person that had killed it had heard her and thought her as a threat before taking off.

After thorough minutes of inspection she deemed the meat fit to eat. She cut away a few more large slabs before wrapping the pieces in a clean fur roll. She would be able to cook the meat for free and get a few salt pies for a low price; it would be worth the wait.

* * *

As the gates open she bolted into Bravil, her heart pounding. Not only had there been a few more animals with similar cuts, a group of supposed bandits lay across the path as well. Ysara's mind had soothed her by saying it was an angry Orc, but the feeling of vomit churning in her stomach made her go into an overdrive of different fears.

The Breton maneuvered along the path of the town, ignoring the strange looks she got from the townsfolk. She knew she must have looked and smelt like a monster that stepped from the bowls of the sewers.

The mental map she had laid of the city quickly brought her to the Lonely Suitor Lodge. It wasn't her first choice as the name disturbed her, but the room they had was cheap and the company good.

"Damn Ysara, what hole have you been living in?" Bogrum Gro-Galash said, waving his hand in front of his nose and giving her a kidding look that quickly faded as he saw her un-amused expression. "Err, sorry… Haven't seen you in a while, where's your partner?"

The Breton hefted her pack onto the counter before answering him in a soft monotone. "Dead, now could I please get a room? I'll be staying two nights."

"Ah, I'm sorry…" the Orc said, rubbing the back of his head and casting his glance downward. "I'll get you the key, is there anything else?"

Ysara took the wrapped meat from her pack and placed it on the counter. "If you could salt these for me while I take a bath that would be great."

"Hmm, you've got a lot and bears are getting scarce… How 'bout this, I take half and I'll salt and cook the other half for you free." He put out the option. The Breton's mind was too overworked to care if it was a good deal or not. "Fine." She sighed, picking her pack back up as well as the key.

First the women stopped by her room, dropping off her pack and grabbing different cloths and armor. They weren't as effective as what she was wearing, but they didn't completely smell of decay. Then she made her way back down and below to a back room where a large steel tub was centered, a low fire warming three large kettles of water.

Ysara kept her mind blank while filled the tub slowly. Once it was filled, her body stripped of her clothes, and her bodice submerged in the warmth, she started to let her mind unwind.

_What the hell happened exactly?_

_To my understanding you were bailed from jail, found random carcasses on your way to salvation, got scared shitless, and now you're sitting naked talking to yourself._

_Obviously, but what was the point? I'm of value to no one. What part am I to play?_

_You may be of more value then you know… Rest and let sleep take you to your new home._

The last statement didn't sound like her, it sounded cold and inhuman. Sounded like something that would make anyone walk away with chills and nightmares. Though the chill that shot up her spine was one of great pleasure, and she felt the slightest need to have it again.

It didn't come again though, to her disappointment, gritting her teeth at having lost she set to work scrubbing the grime from her skin. Once she was nearly done the Breton looked out around the room. A foreboding feeling overcoming her, as if she was being watched.

Her eyes narrowed to a point at the corner of the room. That's where she felt the feeling strongest. She reached for one of the wet wash cloths at her side, about to chuck it at the corner to see if something would emerge. A loud thump caused her to jump from her concentration, and she dropped the cloth into the water.

"Ysara! Meats done, if you want it warm better get out here now." Gro-Galash's voice boomed from outside the door.

An annoyed sigh left the Bretons mouth as she bent over in the tub. Orcs could be so shameless at times. "Alright, alright. Thanks for telling me." She said with venomous sarcasm lacing her voice.

Ysara's gaze flickered around the room once more, the feeling still washing over her, yet she couldn't pinpoint where it was this time. With a heavy sigh she stood from the water, quickly drying herself off and lacing her clothes up. The thoughts of finding peace in the town had left her completely.

The meal didn't nearly pass quick enough for her. The meat tasted good, but it felt dry as she tried to swallow. The feeling of being watched didn't leave her until she went up to her room and shut the door quickly and firmly behind her.

_Perhaps I should have just stayed in prison. _She thought, sliding down from her position of holding the door to a small ball on the ground. The thought of revenge had kept her alive till now, and she thought she had figured out what she wanted, but was it something she was cut out to find? A place to belong seemed simple enough.

She groaned in frustration and dragged herself over to the sleep roll. Not bothering to even curl under the thin layer of cloth for a blanket. As soon as her head hit the flimsy pillow her mind was tossed into darkness.

* * *

_WAKE UP!_

An old familiar pain coursed across Ysara's shoulder, jerking her from her dreamless sleep. The pain faded slowly yet the pressure on her shoulder remained. A source of heat loomed over her and she swiftly brought her arm up, aiming to elbow the person in the chest. The blow was weak as she knew, as the figure easily evaded the attack. Though now she had an opening to use the force to bring her into a half-sitting position.

Her heart thudded and blood roared loudly in her ears as she gazed upward to the cloaked figure that stood in the corner now. Its stance was one that could counter strike in cause she chose to attack, but it was also relaxed and calm, as if not wanting to attack.

After a few moments of silence the figure spoke. "Don't be startled, you sleep quite soundly for a murderer and thus I needed force to wake you." The voice said with a smooth tone.

A prickle of defense raced across her skin but she didn't take action against the statement. Her hand slowly moved to the small knife at her side before she spoke. "Explain yourself… now." she stated, certain what had happened in Leyawiin would only be kept between the guards of each town, and she was sure this man wasn't a guard. A slight feeling of déjà vu washed over her, but it was too subtle to fully notice.

"In time dear child, an introduction is in order beforehand." He said, never loosening his stance. "I am Lucien Lachance, a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood."

The Bretons nerves sparked with unease and surprise. This was happening now, of all times and of all places. She had never pushed into the notion of what had happened years ago, or what even went on before that. It always seemed impossible that she would be part of anything important.

She forced her face to remain expressionless against the verge of questions and emotions that pounded out her mind. "What the hell do you want with me?" Her voice lowered as she spoke, wary of the speaker's intentions.

In the soft candlelight she could just barely see the lower half of Lucien's face. His mouth curled into a small half smile before replying. "Why to join our unique family of course. You are a cold-blooded killer after all."

"And how would you know?" she asked, narrowing her eyes while her grip became tighter on her weapon. She did like this sudden feeling of have being watched for a long time, it made her feel like she was being possessed in a way. The Breton wanted to smash something as he relied with "The night mother's been watching, and she's pleased with what she sees."

His pose became relaxed then as he then asked her something. "This is a once in a lifetime offer, do you wish to hear more?"

Ysara looked away briefly to collect her thoughts and answer. This man had come to her with an opportunity to join the Dark Brotherhood, something she had studied on so long ago, something she had tried to avoid when she was with Scar-tail…. Something that now seemed to be appearing in her life more frequently, if she chose to join now what could she possibly gain? This so called family? An entrance to a good afterlife with people she would hardly know?

_But doesn't having a family mean having a home as well?_

She was jerked by the thoughts as she bit down unknowingly hard on her lip. The skin busted and bled slightly, forcing her to make the odd motion of wiping the crimson liquid away with her free hand. Once she wiped the blood into the bedroll there was a soft cough from the speaker's direction. Her gaze lolled back to him and she sighed. "Please continue… ." she figured going with a polite statement would get her into a better standard with the stranger.

"I find your etiquette… refreshing" he said, and Ysara could hear the different pitch to his tone. If was between a brighter pace and yet somewhat put off by, she guessed, the blood smearing. "To fulfill your initiation you must kill the man by the name of Rufio. You will find him-"

"Rufio…?" The Breton questioned, cutting Lucien off. She had met the man before when she had stayed a night or two at the Inn of Ill Omen. He didn't seem to be one that would need to be killed, though he did look a little shady and scared when they first met. "Why should he die?"

A look of irritation passed over the speakers face "We don't know who or why, we're simply told that someone wants him dead and we get paid for it." He sighed. "Now if you want further details I suggest keeping your mouth shut."

Irritation of her own coursed through Ysara's blood but she kept silent. When it was certain she was going to keep her mouth shut Lucien continued. "It seems as if you already know where the old fool is, so I will go on to present you with this gift." He said, pulling out a small blade from the inside of his cloak. He tossed it down onto her lap and she felt a small pulse from the blade after it landed a pulse that made it seem alive.

"This is a virgin blade, and it thirsts for blood." he explained while she unsheathed the blade and studied the dark gold encrusted steel. "It's yours should you choose to accept my offer."

The Breton studied the blade a moment more, fascinated by the bloodlust the blade had. It made her feel her own sense of longing to end someone's pitiful life. "…Rufio will die by my hand." She said softly.

"Excellent." The speaker purred. "May the blade serve you well. Now I'll take my leave. When you sleep again in a place I deem secure… I will come to you again, bearing the love of your new family."

The words barely registered in Ysara's head, as she was still mesmerized by the blade. When she looked up again she found herself to be alone one more in the small room. Her lips pursed as she looked back on the odd confrontation. Her memory did a quick flash to her waking up in the frozen north, and being woken up and confronted by Sithis himself.

It looked to be as if now was the time for her to come around to him. The more she thought about it the more the thought or serving him disgusted her. Yet at the same time another part tugged with interest at being a supposed important pawn in Sithis plans.

She sighed, moving to put the virgin blade next to her other one, but she found she didn't want to let go of the weapon just yet. So instead she curled back under the bedroll cover and held the blade close to her chest, falling asleep to the steady pulse of death.

* * *

A/N: Aaaaand I'll end it there because 3000+ words are enough for a chapter that needed to be out three weeks ago. So sorry again for the wait. I had an extreme plot bunny skipping through my brain then it was all "Fraak to you." And left me when the convo with Lucien came up :/ so I hope the conversation with him turned out alright. I don't plan for him to be a major character but I hope to create some tension with the next chapter.

Thanks for reading and I\if you have the time please leave a review, I really appreciate it!


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